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Monday, 31 December 2012

2011 was my first full year of writing reviews, focused largely on fantasy. It was also the year I discovered both the pleasures and the pitfalls of self-published books, and that not every big-name author is to my taste. This year I set out to be more selective, and learned how to determine in as short a time as possible whether a book is for me or not. According to Goodreads, I read 102 books this year plus 7 others I attempted but abandoned: 8 rated 5* (7%), 39 rated 4* (36%), 43 rated 3* (39%), 10 rated 2* (9%) and 9 (including the 7 abandoned) rated 1* (8%). That’s an average rating of 3.2, marginally down on last year. Two thirds of my reading was fantasy this year. [Edited to add: Gender rating: 42 of that 109 (39%) were written by female authors, as far as I can tell. Some authors use initials to hide their gender, and some names are ambiguous, so if I had no idea I assumed male.]

It was also another inexpensive year. I bought a total of 149 books, mostly ebooks but a few actual books and one audiobook. However the average price was only £2.15 (around $3.50), down from £2.91 ($4.70) last year. 40 were completely free, either permanently or a special offer (such as Amazon’s Kindle Select program), and a few were a reward for a Kickstarter donation. A further 68 were below mass market paperback rates, costing me less than £3.50 (around $5.65). Not all of these were self-published books, either; mainstream publishers are also beginning to appreciate the value of special deals, and Amazon’s Daily Deals and seasonal promotions regularly came up trumps. I don’t accept free books for reviews and naturally I don’t download pirate ebooks, so anything that helps to keep down the cost of my reading helps. I never read a book just because it’s free or cheap, but if I’m dithering between options, I’ll usually go for the cheapest.

Best of the year

Temeraire by Naomi Novik: the Napoleonic Wars with dragons. A crazy premise, but it works beautifully, both on the level of historical detail and the social nuances of the era, and the dragons. Plenty of action, and the most interesting character by far is Temeraire the dragon. Review here. The follow-on Throne of Jade was just as good.

Voice of the Lost by Andrea K Höst: a wonderful follow-up to The Silence of Medair, with a surprise twist on almost every page, and yet all perfectly logical. Believable characters in an unusual setting. Review here.

Thorn by Intisar Khanani: a delightful YA fairy-tale with surprising depth, and an intelligent final twist. Review here.

Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson: I was disappointed by Elantris, but this one was a quantum leap better. Great magic system, some memorable characters and an action-packed finale. Review here.

Honourable mentions

Lots of good reading this year. Here are just a few:

Michael J Sullivan’s Riyria Revelations series came to a dramatic conclusion, the six books improving in quality and depth with every volume. Series review here.

Stephen Deas’ Memory of Flames series rolls on with fast-paced action, fascinating if not necessarily likeable characters and fantasy’s meanest dragons. First of the series is The Adamantine Palace.

Funniest book of the year - Robert Bevan’s Critical Failures, about a group of table-top games players magically transported into their own characters and world, with interesting results.

Self-publishing review
This year about half my reading has been self-published, although the distinction is increasingly blurred. Self-pubbers are picked up by publishing houses mid-series, traditionally published authors self-publish their experimental work or back catalogue, authors ‘publish’ with tiny independents which still expect them to do all the grunt work and even the big six publishers are muscling in on the act, seeing self-pubbers as another market to be tapped. But for the first time there are signs that big publishing and authors are reaching a more grown-up relationship. Authors no longer have to make the difficult decision between a standard contract which gives them the freedom to write but with virtually no control over marketing, or self-publishing which has all the control but also all the work. Hugh Howey, the author of the surprise hit 'Wool', recently negotiated a deal where he retains all the rights to his ebooks, while the publisher markets the printed books. Authors with a proven selling record have power, and are finally realising it.

But for the vast majority of self-publishing authors it's a dispiriting business. They might sell a few copies, but getting reviews, and getting noticed amongst the deluge of books now swilling around on Amazon is increasingly difficult. It's tempting to game the system, but Amazon is clamping down on authors who write reviews as a favour to fellow authors, even though they might be genuine, while being unable, it seems, to do anything about the flood of paid-for reviews. It is also nerve-wracking to rest your authorial future on a mega-corporation like Amazon, whose goal is to shift product. Amazon has been very kind to self-publishers to date, but that is a marketing strategy focused on profit margins and scoring points off the big publishers, and could change overnight.

I’ve been saddened, too, by favourite authors who have disappeared. Sue Rule, who wrote the unforgettable Shehaios trilogy, reports on her last blog entry that she’s no longer writing fiction owing to an ‘overdose of reality’. Amy Rose Davis, whose ‘Ravenmarked’ was one of my most enjoyable reads of the year, has genuinely vanished, no longer to be found on Goodreads, Facebook or Amazon, and I have no idea why. I can only worry about her, and hope for the best.

A thank you to authors

I’ve enjoyed some great reading this year, with fewer disappointments and what-was-I-thinking moments. Even when a book was not to my taste, I could admire the originality and energy and the quality of the writing. So, to all the authors whose works I’ve read and reviewed - a big thank you. I hear a great deal these days about authors behaving badly, but I have never encountered anything but politeness from authors I’ve reviewed.

Friday, 28 December 2012

I’m a big fan of self-published books, which give me some of my best reading at a very good price. But not everyone is so enamoured. Book review bloggers love to read, they love to write reviews, they love to connect with other readers. But a lot of them just won't touch self-published books. Here are some of the reasons they give:

1: I can get all the books I want from the traditional publishers. This is actually a perfectly good reason. Nobody can read every book published each year, even the most voracious readers can only get through 300-400 a year, if they gobble them up at the rate of a book a day or so. Most will read 1-2 per week, some less than that. So reviewers have to be selective, and choosing to read only the output of publishing houses is as good a method as any other. It's the safe choice.

2: I don't have time. This is a curious one. Superficially it makes no sense, because if you have time to read one book, you have time to read a different one. Does it take more time to read a self-published book than any other kind? No, actually, they're often shorter, but that's not really what this is about. It's not the reading time that's at issue, it's the time to find self-published books that you might want to read. Many book review bloggers are sent free books by publishers in the hope that they'll publicise them. Often they buy their own books as well. So there's always a huge pile of books waiting to be read. When they finish one, they just go to the bookcase or fire up the Kindle and pick another that appeals. It takes virtually no time because they are choosing from a limited supply (of hundreds, maybe, but still limited). But how do you find self-published books? Amazon has endless thousands of them, and it can be daunting to trawl though the lists reading the reviews, the blurb and perhaps the sample. And it takes hours. Ideally you want some recommendations, but that's hard to find because - guess what - many bloggers won't review self-published books. So it's easy to see why many bloggers stick to what's most readily available. Another safe choice.

3: Self-publishing authors might behave badly. It's true that some self-published authors react very badly to critical reviews. It's equally true that some traditionally published authors throw hissy fits from time to time, too (or their agents, spouses and publishers do). But there is a more fundamental problem with self-published authors, which is that the relationship is much more personal. Reviewers have no contact with a traditionally published author, because review copies are sent by the publisher or the marketing department to the blogger, either on request or unsolicited. Self-published authors, however, are doing all their own marketing, so they necessarily have to contact the blogger direct. This immediately creates a cyber-relationship between author and reviewer. Instead of dealing with author S Smith, suddenly you're exchanging emails with Sarah, who apologises for the delay in responding but she had to take her two-year-old to the doctor. This creates a real problem for reviewers: it's very tempting to agree to read a book just because the author seems like such a nice person, but what if you absolutely hate it? Can you really write a critical review? So it's easier just to say upfront: no self-published authors.

4: So much self-published work is terrible. Now I have a lot of sympathy with this point of view. Traditionally published books have been through some sort of selection process, they’ve been edited and tinkered with and polished so that the amateur mistakes have been weeded out. I may not enjoy the story, but I won't be distracted with creative approaches to spelling, punctuation and grammar. Self-published books haven’t necessarily been subjected to the same quality control - or any editing process at all, it sometimes seems. And given the vast numbers of self-published books being released nowadays (many times more than traditionally published), it can give the impression that they’re all rubbish. In my experience, traditionally published books conform to a rough bell curve - a small number of amazing ones, a much larger number of good and quite good ones, and a small number of terrible ones (terrible to me, that is). Self-published books fit exactly the same distribution - BUT there is also a long, long tail of books below my personal threshold of readability. Then the problem becomes one of finding the enjoyable ones (see point 2 above). So again, it’s easier to just say no.

5: They don't generate hits on the blog. This is an interesting one, which translates into: no one's ever heard of them. Well, true, but only up to a point. Most are unknowns, but there are actually quite a number of established authors who have made the switch to self-publishing. A lot of romance writers are jumping ship, for instance, because of the very restrictive contracts the publishers impose. Working independently, they have more creative freedom, can interact directly with fans and also make more money. Some authors stay with a publisher for their mainstream books, but self-publish their back catalogue, edgier work or anything that doesn't fit the publisher's marketing strategy. But yes, most self-publishers are unknowns. Then the question becomes whether a blogger wants to inform readers about interesting books regardless of where they come from (assuming they can find them, see point 2 above). But again, sticking to the well-known names is very much the safe option.

So, OK, there are some good reasons for reviewers to avoid self-published books, and that's their decision to make. Self-published books are the risky option - you never know what you're going to get. It might be a masterpiece, it might be a trite rehashing of an already overused story, riddled with typos, bad grammar, poor writing and cardboard characters, or it might be a stream of abusive emails from the aggrieved author. But even if you could find the masterpiece amidst all the rubbish, are there any reasons to review self-published books rather than mainstream?

Reasons to review self-published books:

1: They're cheap. Generally speaking, self-published books are less than half the price of the typical mainstream book. You can buy 2-3 self-published books for the cost of one mass market paperback, and 5-6 for the price of a standard hardback. For those of us feeding our reading habits ourselves, that makes a significant difference. For those who accept free books for review, self-published authors are almost always willing to send an ebook.

2: They're more original. Obviously, traditional publishers put out a certain amount of truly imaginative work as well, but on the whole they tend to be conservative, to run with what's selling well at the moment, to prefer books that fit a certain style. They’re slow moving, too; very often they’re busy pumping out look-alike books long after the market has moved on. Self-published authors have no such constraints. They can cross genres with impunity, write exactly what they want, respond instantly to trends, be as different as they like. This doesn't always work, of course, but even the slightly wonky efforts can be hugely rewarding to read.

3: I like to reward initiative. It’s a struggle for authors to be noticed. Only a small proportion ever get picked up by a publisher, and until recently the rest might as well not exist. They were invisible. Not so any longer. Many rejected hopefuls turn to self-publishing in despair, and others just don’t want the hassle of all those rejections. Many of them work hard to present their work professionally and to market it, in a climate which is openly hostile towards them. It can be dispiriting, so it’s nice to give a helping hand to those who deserve it, and are not getting help or money or encouragement from anyone else.

4: Self-published authors are nice people. Yes, yes, I know a few of them behave appallingly, and quite a number of reviewers have been burned by that. But I’ve never yet had a bad response from an author, and I don’t pull any punches, either. If a book has flaws in my opinion, I say so in my review. I’ll quite happily hand out 1* and 2* reviews to books that just didn’t work for me, and no one’s ever got stroppy about it. On the contrary, some of the most gracious messages I’ve received were in response to poorly rated books, and some authors are abjectly grateful for any review at all. But when I’m genuinely able to write a glowing review for a self-published book, I really get a buzz out of that. I realise that a big-name author neither knows nor cares what I think of his/her work, but self-published authors do, and I enjoy being able to make their day.

5: I don’t care where a book comes from. I would guess, actually, that most readers feel that way. Apart from formula books (like romances, for instance), few readers slavishly follow specific publishing houses. Authors, maybe, but not publishers. It’s the story that matters, and the writer who created it, the way it was published is irrelevant.

6: I might be the first to spot the next best-seller. Actually, I’m not terribly bothered about this, and it’s not why I read self-published books, but it’s definitely fun to be the first to post a review, and to find the real gems amidst all the junk. It’s also nice, in some ways, to watch a self-published author grow from nowhere and become successful.

7: The next book will arrive quicker. You would think, wouldn’t you, that as soon as an author hands the finished manuscript over to a publisher, then the book would appear in the stores a fixed amount of time later? Not so. Part 5 of a mega best-selling series that millions are panting to get their hands on can be whizzed through the process in a matter of weeks. For most authors, however, it’s a more leisurely business, and will be slotted into the publisher’s marketing schedule whenever convenient, which might be years away. Self-publishing authors don’t have that problem. They still have to go through the usual steps of editing, finding cover art and so on (or they should!), but then it’s straight off to Amazon. So fans don’t have to wait so long between books, and with the traditional fantasy trilogy, that's a significant difference.

OK, so there are more reasons to read self-published books than there are not to read them, but that doesn’t mean everyone should immediately change their reading habits. For those who are happy with traditionally published authors, that's fine. I'm not suggesting that anyone should fill their Kindle up with self-published books. But there are good, readable self-published books out there for those who want to try them. The real problem is - how to find them.

You might think that the Amazon bestseller list would be the way to go. Amazon posts the top 100 books in the fantasy genre, both free and paid-for, and surely any self-published book which makes it into the paid-for list will be worth reading? You might well think that, but you'd be wrong. About half the list is self-published, and while they're obviously popular, the question of whether they're worth reading is debatable. Those that I've read vary from brilliant to - well, unreadable (by me, anyway, although obviously a lot of people are unconcerned about creativity in the grammar, spelling and punctuation departments, and are relaxed about plot and characterisation too). Most are just meh - books that could have been better with a decent editor in the development process, to tighten up the plot and improve characterisation. The ideas are often good, but the execution is not always that great. Mind you, exactly the same could be said of some of the traditionally published books on the bestseller list.

It has to be said - the most popular books are not always the most intellectually satisfying, and this is probably true in all genres. My (admittedly limited) research into this suggests that most self-published fantasy that does well tends to be fairly simple: a single protagonist with a linear plotline and straightforward language, written in such a way that the reader never has to wonder exactly what is going on. This is in sharp contrast to some traditionally published successes, which tend towards the convoluted - multi-book series where you have to take notes as you go along, or reread regularly, or where the reader is parachuted into the middle of the action without any explanation or all of these (Malazan, I’m looking at you here).

So where else can a hopeful reader look? The book bloggers often don't review self-published books, but there are quite a few which specialise in them, if you trawl around. There are a few websites which actively encourage self-publishers, like www.fantasy-faction.com. There are websites like westeros.org which include an active literature forum. Amazon has a very useful feature: ‘Customers who bought this also bought...’. Find a book you like, and Amazon will suggest up to 100 more of similar type. My preferred source is Goodreads, which connects you with like-minded friends, has specialised discussion forums and has an interesting recommendations feature. I get most of my suggestions from one or other of these sources. But the principle of caveat emptor applies: read the blurb, read the reviews, read the sample. Then, and only then, decide whether to buy. Of course, this applies equally to traditionally published books.

About half of my reading these days is self-published, and although I still come across the odd turkey, most are perfectly competent, readable efforts, well-presented and free from the most egregious errors, and a few are outstanding. Am I just lucky? No, I put a lot of effort into weeding out anything laced with poor grammar or spelling, a writing style that doesn’t sit well with me or plot features that I just don’t enjoy. But what’s left is mostly indistinguishable from traditionally published books. Which is exactly as it should be, of course.

Thursday, 27 December 2012

This is the second of the ‘Black Sun’s Daughter’ series of urban
fantasies, written under a pseudonym by Daniel Abraham. The first,
‘Unclean Spirits’, was a bit spotty, overfull of angst, shopping sprees
and housecleaning, not to mention a certain amount of breathless sex.
This one is a lot better in all respects. I find the three blokes a bit
hard to distinguish, though, and even though I know there’s an
ex-priest, a calm chanting one and the love interest, it still took me
most of the book to get straight which one was which.

The plot
this time involves an ex-FBI agent who’s been tracking down ‘riders’
(demons of some sort who latch onto a human, inhabiting their body), and
wants the gang to kidnap a child because... OK, never mind about the
plot. There are some dramatic encounters which never go quite the way
they’re supposed to and it makes for a solid, pacy read. There are also
the beginnings of depth to the characters and their relationships, and
now that Jayné (the heroine, and if you think that name is bad, the
sidekicks are called Ex, Chogyi Jake and Aubrey; but the FBI agent is
Karen, so make of that what you will). Where was I? Oh yes, now that
Jayné has calmed down a bit, she’s beginning to show signs of
intelligent life. She thinks the way to wind down after a close
encounter with a ‘rider’ is a night of heavy-duty clubbing, but it’s
better than break-the-bank shopping binges, I suppose. She’s still not
got much self-confidence, but the author is allowing her to grow rather
well from book to book, and the dynamic between her and the three
sidekicks is beginning to blossom nicely.

The story this time is
set in New Orleans in the wake of Katrina, and the setting is
beautifully realised, and feels totally real and atmospheric. I’ve only
been there once, many years ago, but some of the descriptions brought
back vivid memories. The voodoo background is perfect for the story,
too. There is some rather heavy-handed drawing of parallels between the
Katrina-wrought changes and the events of Jayné’s life, but it does give
the book a bit of much-needed depth.

A small quibble. I don’t
expect to see punctuation issues with a book put out by a major
publisher, but this one repeatedly had lines that went: ‘Blah blah blah,
I said. It drove me nuts. Hiring a decent editor is not just for
self-publishers. But it’s a minor point in a book which builds to a
terrific finale. Again, nothing quite goes according to plan, but (as in
the first book) I like the way that Jayné doesn’t quite turn into the
all-powerful kick-ass heroine, gets injured and needs help and support
from a few of her friends.

To be honest, I’m not much enamoured
with urban fantasy. I like the big sweep of a created world, and it
seems a little odd to me for characters to battle demons and then drive
off down the I10 or pop into a Starbucks to check their email. But I’m
very much enamoured of the writings of Daniel Abraham, so I’m definitely
on board for the whole series. This was a step up from the first book,
and the more credible heroine, evocative setting, breathless finale and
greater depth make it four stars.

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Over at Fantasy Review Barn, my fellow blogger Nathan and I will be sharing some of our favourite reads of the year in the Barney Awards for 2012 - one lighthearted award for each of the 12 days of Christmas.

Sunday, 23 December 2012

It's hard to know how to categorise this. It's historical fiction,
certainly, and it's a murder mystery complete with investigating
detective, and there's enough paranormal flavour to make it (I suppose)
fantasy, so take your pick. The setting is Stornoway, in the Outer
Hebrides, and the dialogue is littered with plausible Scottish dialect
and Gaelic, but don't let that put you off, because it's all very easy
to read.

The plot is simple. It's 1882, and policeman Edmund
Forrester is asked to investigate the disappearance of a young man from a
fishing boat. The boat owner swears he fell overboard during a storm,
but the victim's parents think there's more to it and the incident
occurred in the Sound of Shiant, a mysterious body of water near the
Shiant Islands hedged about with rumour and myth. Naturally, as soon as
the hero begins to investigate, he's faced with opposition and downright
obstruction from most of the locals, with a few more helpful souls and
even just a teaspoonful of romance (sort of). Oh, and there’s a comic
relief sidekick, as well.

My biggest problem with the book is the
historical details. I don't know what Stornoway was like in 1882, so
I'll assume the author's done his research there (although I did wonder a
bit at the idea of pubs with booths), and London's Metropolitan Police
did indeed have a Criminal Investigation Department and a small number
of Detective Inspectors at that time (although only just). And all the
characters seemed to smoke cigarettes constantly which seemed a bit
unlikely. It was the divorce that got me. Forrester is divorced from his
wife, yet he attends her second wedding, which takes place in church
with the bride wearing a white dress amidst the usual celebrations. Why
did they divorce? Because he devoted too much attention to his job.

Now
divorce in 1882 was a very rare business indeed (a few hundred cases a
year), and involved proving in court adultery, cruelty, desertion,
bigamy or something equally major (and no, being obsessive about your
work was not one of the allowable causes). There was always blame (one
spouse had to sue the other for divorce), and even a hundred years later
it was incredibly unusual and stigmatising for both parties. To this
day it remains difficult to remarry in church (in England, anyway;
Scotland is a little different). As for the white dress - you had to be
rich to wear anything so impractical (even for a first wedding). It's
not that any of this was actually impossible, I don't suppose, but the
implausibility of it grated on me, and I almost gave up at that point.

What
kept me going was the setting, the beautifully described Western Isles
(or Outer Hebrides, or nowadays Na h-Eileanan Siar) and the waters round
about. There was Gaelic and dialect scattered about everywhere, which
seemed to my inexpert ears to sound exactly right. My Gaelic is
negligible, but even so I recognised a few phrases and even spotted the
odd occasion where a character mistranslated for the non-Gaelic-speaking
main character.

Unfortunately, a nice way with language isn’t
enough, and the book was a disappointment to me on almost every other
level. The murder mystery wasn’t any mystery at all, the supernatural
aspects were revealed in the prologue and the ‘hero’ is one of the most
uninteresting and unlikeable I’ve ever come across. Determination to get
to the bottom of things is a fine quality in a detective, but in this
case it manifests as an aggressive refusal to give up, wilful disregard
for his own or anyone else’s safety and some breathtakingly stupid
decisions. Plus he decided at an early stage that the supernatural
element was involved, even when he was told repeatedly that such things
belonged to mythology. It’s an odd thing when the sophisticated English
detective is more superstitious than the traditional islanders. A
strange book. I couldn’t get past the improbabilities, but for those
with a better developed ability to suspend disbelief this is a perfectly
readable little story. Two stars for the atmospheric setting and the
Gaelic.

Goodreads has 42,945 ratings of this book, and 2,892 reviews. What can I
possibly say that hasn’t been said already, and considerably better
than any combination of words I can come up with? Nothing at all,
probably, but I’m going to have a bash anyway.

I first read this
many years ago, and regarded it as one of the best books I’d ever read.
This time, I tried the audiobook version, read by Dominic West, who has
the appropriate gravitas for Stevens the butler. The plot - well, it
hardly matters, being merely a vehicle to demonstrate the buttoned-up
and rather tragic personality of Stevens himself, reminiscencing on the
past glory days of the house where he serves. His memories of past
events, coloured entirely by his own fossilised perspective of the
professional nature of being in service, form the body of the story.

This
has to be one of the finest descriptions of a single mind I have ever
read. The author uses language with such skill that the reader
completely understands Stevens and his world view, while also
appreciating that the events described solely from his perspective are
capable of alternative interpretations. While Stevens performs his
duties with impeccable care, he is completely oblivious to the social
nuances emanating from the people and events around him, which leads him
occasionally to behave in misguided, almost wilfully blind, ways.
Meanwhile his employer, Lord Darlington, is equally misguided in his
efforts to promote the cause of Fascist Germany and equally oblivious to
political nuances. Several times Lord Darlington is referred to as an
amateur in politics, which contrasts elegantly with the professionalism
of the butler.

I am not sure that I agree with the apparent
suggestion of the later parts of the book that master and servant have
both wasted their lives on inappropriate efforts. History is written by
the victors, and if the war had turned out differently, then those who,
like Lord Darlington, made approaches towards Hitler would have been
fêted as heroes, not lambasted as near-traitors. And any employee who
has done his job to the very best of his ability for many years can
hardly be said to have wasted his life. I’m not sure that Stevens would
ever have been capable of a normal life, regardless of occupation, so it
seems unlikely that he made unreasonable sacrifices for his job.
Frankly, I wondered quite what Miss Kenton saw in him.

Even with
the benefit of hindsight, I still see little wrong with this book. The
language is perfectly tuned for the voice of Stevens, the insight into
his personality is profound and there is enough social commentary hidden
below the surface to satisfy the need for depth. Five stars.

Friday, 21 December 2012

This is a short but very readable young adult book, with the
standard-issue feisty female lead, plenty of action, large dollops of
angst and a romance at its heart. It doesn’t stray very far from fantasy
conventions: the heroine is the heir to the kingdom, brought up in
secret in a religious order, the only survivor of a massacre by the
villain, and there’s no real-world messing about with giving him a
believable personality or realistic motivations - he’s essentially
barking mad. The plot is the usual series of set-piece narrow escapes
and dramatic encounters, while the heroine gears up for her
save-the-world role. This makes for a fast-paced roller-coaster ride,
and it’s all fairly entertaining.

Monday, 17 December 2012

The pundits say that the opening of a book is the most important part to
captivate the reader, and I suppose it’s just as important as a way of
losing the reader, too. So it is with this book. I had only got to page 2
and I was floored by a simple puzzle. Our heroine receives a letter
which contains six hangman puzzles, which she and her sister proceed to
solve in no time - all by themselves. Forgive me for being stupid, but
isn't hangman a game where both sides, originator and guesser, have to
participate? It's not like a cryptic crossword puzzle, where the whole
point is to deduce the answer by yourself.

So that set me off on
the wrong foot straight away. Then there were a bunch of new characters
introduced, a lot of brand-name dropping (do we need to know the heroine
has a Gateway computer?) and then more puzzles... And I couldn't get
interested because half my mind was still trying to get past the hangman
incident. Now maybe there’s some ingenious way to play a one-sided game
that I don’t know about, and if someone explains it to me I’ll give
this book another go, but for now it’s just too off-putting for me to
concentrate on the rest of it. Lots of people seem to like this, so I
guess it’s just me. One star for a DNF.

Sunday, 16 December 2012

I read ‘Prophecy’, the first book in the ‘Lirieia’s
Children’ series, a few months ago and I enjoyed it although I had some
issues, but after that slightly tentative debut this is a much more assured
piece of writing. The story picks up exactly where the previous book left off,
with the Gryffin split into two camps, Kratyn the rebel taking his supporters
elsewhere, and Jurel uniting with the Orryn to attempt to defeat the aggressive
Lord Defender, ruler of the plains humans, in the belief that Anarion is the
Child of Prophecy.

The first book spent a lot of time introducing the
various races of Gryffin, Orryn and humans (and not forgetting the tiny
Grovale, who act as servants for the Gryffin), and building the characters,
particularly the strangely bonded pair, Anarion the human/Orryn and Teryl the
Gryffin. This one hits the ground running, with action almost right from the
start, but there’s enough information to remind readers of events and
characters from the first book. I enjoyed seeing the extraordinarily timid
Orryn coming out of their sheltered valleys and undertaking dangerous missions
on their own. The author cleverly shows us some fairly familiar human
activities, like music-making, dancing and the copious consumption of beer,
through bemused Orryn eyes (although surely they have music in Orryn society?).
I loved the way they diligently took notes of everything they saw, in a
properly scientific manner. The Orryn make a refreshing change from the typical
fantasy hero type, who is often brimming with self-confidence, or at least a
willingness to swing a sword where necessary. The Orryn, by contrast, are so
averse to aggression that they keel over into unconsciousness whenever
confronted with it.

The magic system is made clearer in this book, and
it turns out to be rather simple, but powerful in an ingenious variety of ways.
I very much like the way humans need to power their magic with stones, but the
Orryn have an innate ability. This distinction leads to some surprising
(although completely logical) differences in their abilities. More
specifically, both races have some powers which the other is incapable of. As
with most fantasy, magic is used both to spring surprises on the characters,
and also to enable them to get out of trouble, but the possibilities are laid
out well in advance so that it never feels like a cheat.

I grumbled a bit in my review of the first book
that too little was revealed about Sharra (Anarion’s mother) and
the Lord Defender (the villain of the piece). Both omissions are rectified very
satisfactorily in this book. The Lord Defender, in particular, steps out of the
shadows now and becomes a character in his own right, and although it doesn’t
entirely make his motivations clearer (but then I’ve never understood the desire for
global domination, frankly, so maybe that’s just me), nevertheless it makes him a
more real and rounded person instead of a nebulous bad guy. I rather like his
sidekick, Branden, too, who's rather more intelligent than is usual for the
villain's henchman.

The ending was something of a surprise, not
exactly a let-down, but a relatively low-key moment. But then the whole book is
very much about the characters and how they come to adapt to their changed
circumstances rather than being a high action affair, so this was very much in
keeping with the rest of the book. In fact, the last few chapters, and
especially the revelations regarding Jinelle and Bashide, were very moving.
It's not an easy task to create non-human characters that resonate with the
reader just as much as humans while staying true to their own natures, but this
is something the author has achieved magnificently, as well as creating clearly
distinct cultures, even amongst the various humans. This book is a huge step up
from its predecessor. It's still rather wordy and formal, but that is, after
all, part of the Orryn nature, so it's highly appropriate. In the end, it's the
characters who stick in my mind - Anarion and Teryl, the enterprising Kaidal
and Talla, Shayla, dignified in captivity (and perhaps influencing the Lord
Defender in positive ways), and many more. A thoroughly enjoyable read, and a
good four stars.

Saturday, 15 December 2012

This is a gentle Regency romance which starts with rather a splendid
flourish, but degenerates quite quickly into a dull and predictable
tale. This sort of book inevitably runs on rails - heroine meets hero,
dislikes him on sight, begins to like him but there are insuperable
obstacles and so on and so forth. It’s entirely up to the skill of the
author to overcome the constraints of the formula and develop the
characters and plot-twists in interesting ways. In this case, the
heroine has a certain naive charm, but the hero seemed to veer from
sympathy to sneering dislike to anger and back again at the drop of a
hat. The conceit of two men competing for the lady as a wager is a very
overused one, and again, the hero wavers, telling himself one minute
that such a thing is despicable behaviour and the next chasing after her
enthusiastically. I also wasn’t very enamoured of the author’s habit of
telling us the thoughts of several characters, jumping from one to
another within the scene. There’s no law against it, but it does make
the story somewhat unfocused, I find. For those who enjoy Georgette
Heyer, this is a pale imitation, nothing but froth, but is a pleasant
enough way to pass the time, if you don’t mind the mistakes. I do; there
are numerous editing errors, and the third use of
‘ingenious’ instead of ‘ingenuous’ was the final straw. One star for a
DNF.

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

So - there's an alcoholic ex-cop, half Welsh and
half Irish and a quarter Corsican (I may have got this slightly wrong), and
there's a murderer, with multiple identities, always on the run. And yes, the
murderer is a main character, who gets his own point of view. And there's a
murder in Paris and another one at a vineyard, seemingly not connected, and
it's all very complicated and written in a style which is perhaps meant to be
ironic noir, or stylishly gritty, or possibly satirical, I can't really be
sure. Basically, I found it very hard to follow, and wasn't interested in the
characters either, so I'm abandoning ship. The author has a distinguished
career behind him as a screenwriter of cop shows, so possibly things perk up
later on. One star for a DNF.

This is a
curious book. The setting is unusual, sixth century Eastern Europe,
although it didn’t feel any different from a great many other fantasy
works in that respect, at least not in the early parts. The protagonist,
Javor, is an interesting character, an immature fifteen year old who
doesn't fit in at all with his family and society and is shunned as an
outcast. Of course, he has strange powers, not yet fully developed
and... Well, I think we can see where this is going.

Now there's nothing
wrong with retelling a familiar story, and this one has some nice
original twists. Still, it does feel rather hackneyed at times. There’s
the wise old mentor guiding the young man along and encouraging him to
fulfil his true potential. There’s the inevitable quest, there are a
couple of magic gizmos and some monsters to be defeated - and no,
there’s never any doubt that they will be defeated. However unoriginal
the trappings of the story, though, it’s refreshing to see a hero who
is, in many ways, very unhero-like. He seems, to my inexpert eyes, to be
almost autistic in his aversion to social interaction. This might be a
part of his abilities or it might be unconnected, but it’s interesting.

So,
having defeated a few monsters, the hero and his mentor are about to
set off on a journey to Constantinople when - the book ends with the
dispiriting words: ‘End of Part 1. The remainder of The Bones of the
Earth: Initiation Rites can be purchased for 99 cents on Smashwords.’
Well, no it can’t. If I want to read the rest of the story, it seems my
only option is to pay the full cost of the whole book, having already
paid for what is apparently only a sample. If I were enthralled by the
story so far, perhaps I might do that, but while it has its
moments, it's a bit meh, so I think I'll pass. One star for a DNF.

Friday, 7 December 2012

This is the fourth of a very long series featuring the genial but
persistent detective, George Gently. As the terrible pun of the title
suggests, this episode sees Our Hero staying with the great and the good
(or at least the rich and titled) over Christmas, where the festivities
are inevitably interrupted by a murder. The setting, a large country
house of some antiquity, gives the book the atmosphere of Agatha
Christie fanfic. I usually enjoy the period details of these books,
written in the fifties, but this is ground that has been covered a
thousand times before - the creepy attics and winding stairs, the secret
passages, billiard rooms and libraries, the butler and housemaids, the
dressing for dinner and stuffy formality. There are some details of the
meals which would interest foodies, but otherwise I found it a little
ordinary.

The characters never quite seem to work in these books.
Gently himself is almost too self-effacing, allowing others to take the
lead in the investigation and then mildly asking the one crucial
question that reveals the significant little detail. But this is better,
perhaps, than the over-the-top buffoonery of his superior, who blusters
and expostulates his way through the interrogations, completely
confident in the innocence of the aristocracy and insistently looking
for the murderer amongst the obviously less trustworthy lower classes.
Then there is the lady of the house, who lies outright to the police
and, when pressed, has hysterics or falls into a swoon at Gently's feet.
Did women ever fall into swoons under stress? Perhaps Victorians
struggling for breath in their tightly-laced stays, but certainly not
normal, healthy women in the more accommodating fashions of the nineteen
fifties.

The ending was slightly melodramatic, but not a huge
surprise, on the whole. The murderer was apprehended, justice was done
and so on and so forth, according to the conventions of such books, and
no tricks were employed by the author to deceive the diligent reader
keeping track of the likely suspects, so a satisfactory conclusion all
round. The series isn’t great literature, and doesn’t compare with
Agatha Christie, but this is a pleasant, undemanding read with an
interesting backdrop of upper class and upper middle class life at the
time. Three stars.

Monday, 3 December 2012

I have no idea how to categorise this - paranormal with essence of
quantum physics, I suppose, and not really a romance, being more about
love and consciousness and being a parent and (perhaps) destiny.
Whatever it is, it’s a perfect example of the value of Goodreads - there
I was, trawling through the digest of posts on the Goodreads forums I
frequent when I came across a post by the author mentioning this book. A
couple of clicks later, I was reading the sample, came to the end,
clicked again and... just kept reading. So, the value of Goodreads
combined with Amazon, I suppose.

The premise is that the main
character, Christine, starts to experience flashes of another life,
where she’s married to a man she barely knows and a daughter she doesn’t
remember at all. Only problem is - both she and the man are married to
other people. There ensues a great deal of discussion of electrons and
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle and Schrödinger’s cat, but it never
gets heavy enough to qualify this as science fiction. This part of the
book involves Christine in a lot of angsting of the
this-can’t-really-be-happening-to-me type, interspersed with the far
more interesting reveals about the ‘other’ life, where many things are
the same but a few key things are different (Christine’s job, for
instance - she’s a theology lecturer in the ‘other’ life, but some sort
of office drone in this life; if the actual job was mentioned, I must
have missed it).

Most of the book runs on fairly simplistic and
predictable rails - increasing amounts of hopping about, Christine
‘remembering’ more about her ‘other’ life, including her feelings for
‘other’ husband Matt, and trying to reconcile this with her feelings for
her husband in this world, Damien. And, perhaps more profoundly, she
recalls her love for Teresa, her daughter with Matt, while with Damien
she’s been unable to have children. I would have liked more detail about
some of the people in Christine’s two lives, and the places are merely
sketched in. The writing style is a little too sparse for my taste, and
there’s a great deal of dialogue, making it seem more lightweight than
it really is.

There are some improbabilities - the terribly
convenient appearance of a quantum physicist, who not only explains the
sciencey bits but also talks about souls; and the astonishing
coincidence of Christine encountering surely the only NHS doctor in
Britain who listens to her, believes her and doesn’t instantly put her
on anti-depressants or have her sectioned. And then, almost too quickly,
the end is rushing up at a rate of knots. I rather liked the ending,
actually, which eschews the obvious options and instead takes an
unexpectedly grown-up line (although the characters worked out how to
get there a bit too easily).

This is not really a profound book,
despite the quantum physics and discussion of consciousness, the
characters don’t have much depth and it suffers from a writing style
which is almost skeletal. It would have been improved, I think, by
taking a little more time to describe the settings and allowing the
characters to show their feelings and personalities in subtler ways,
rather than expressing everything in dialogue. Nevertheless, I found it
an easy, enjoyable read, hard to put down, with an unexpectedly
sophisticated ending, so despite the flaws I’m going to give it four
stars.

This is the second in a series of urban fantasy/police procedurals set
in London. They are rather whimsical, in a very British way, so if
you’re allergic to self-effacing heroes, dry, understated humour and a
severe lack of gun-battles, you should probably avoid this. I liked the
first in the series, ‘Rivers of London’ (bizarrely called ‘Midnight
Riot’ in the US), with a few reservations, but this one worked even
better, I thought. It’s always a problem writing the first of what could
be a lengthy series, since you have to establish the characters, the
premise and the setting, while also constructing a major plot and
weaving in a number of subplots which will run for some time. The second
attempt is often much easier with the heavy lifting already done, as it
were, and such is the case here.

The big attraction for me is
the central character, Peter Grant, a fairly ordinary London copper who
has been co-opted into the Metropolitan Police’s ‘magic’ department to
train as a wizard after showing signs of magical ability. Unlike many
such fantasy works, however, Peter doesn’t become all-powerful
overnight, nor does he display unusual levels of ability. On the
contrary, he struggles to learn anything at all, his spells often go
wrong, and he regularly has to fall back on his not especially quick
wits to get him out of trouble, leading to a surprising amount of (very
entertaining) destruction of property. He is very male, however, which
means that it isn’t always his brain which is doing the thinking, and in
this book this leads to some improbably athletic sex.

The other
characters are mildly interesting in their different ways, but not
particularly compelling. The river spirits, who were a feature of the
previous book, have a very small role in this one, and one-time
potential girlfriend Lesley (a fellow cop who magically lost half her
face in the first book) is sidelined here, but clearly is going to be
developed further in future books. It’s a curious thing that almost all
the female characters are either termagants (Tyburn, Stephanopoulos) or
evil vampire-like creatures (several of those) or in some way weird or
eccentric (Molly, Peter’s Mum). Then there’s the one who could be
described literally as a man-eater. Ouch.

I do like a book that
makes me laugh, and this one is laugh-out-loud funny (for those who get
that low-key British humour, of course). I do wonder just how this sort
of thing plays elsewhere - all those references to postwar architecture
and A-roads and chavettes and Morse, and sly digs at Cheam and the
peaceable nature of Glaswegians. Some of it is so subtle that many of
the jokes must whizz over the heads of non-Brits. I’m sure I missed a
few myself. The descriptions of London - Camden Market and Soho and the
Trocadero - are probably less problematic, since the author describes
them well enough for the reader to get some idea.

The plot -
well, it’s not really the point of a book like this. Let’s just say that
it’s a bit flimsy, but it serves well enough to get Our Hero to the
appropriate number of setpiece encounters, where his limited magical
abilities combined with some improvisation more or less get him out of
trouble. As is usual in this type of book, the main plotline is neatly
sewn up, with a scattering of characters and incidents left to bubble up
in future books in the series. I’m not a big fan of urban fantasy as a
rule, as it veers too close to horror for my taste, but this one is
milder than the previous book in that respect, and the humour and gentle
charm made it a totally enjoyable, if lightweight, experience. Four
stars.

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

At first glance, this is a very traditional fantasy story about a magic
ring which slips away from its evil owner at a critical moment, and
finds its way into the hands of the most unlikely person imaginable.
There’s a benign wizard acting as mentor and guide, there’s an evil
wizard spreading darkness over the land, with the help of some evil
minions, and there’s a collection of good guys uniting to defeat evil.
You might think you’ve read something with a plot not a million miles
from this one before. But not so fast; this book is proof of the theory
that even the oldest and most overworked tale can be infused with new
life in the hands of a good storyteller.

The plot isn’t really as
unoriginal as I made out. Tabitha is the teenage girl who ends up with
the magic ring, but she uses it to sing the Lifesong, the music that
(somehow) triggers or even transcends the magic in this world. Ashley is
an apprentice Lifegifter (or mage) who finds himself with the
convenient ability to read thoughts. Garyll is the Swordmaster (chief
warrior and law enforcer), and also love interest for Tabitha. The
Riddler is the good wizard, there to help Tabitha. Kirjath Arkell is one
of the minions. And although there are good guys and bad guys, things
aren’t at all as clearcut as is usual in this type of fantasy.

The
worldbuilding has been quite carefully done. The setting, Eyri, is
rather small, being no more than two to three days riding from one side
to the other, but there’s a reason behind that, and hopefully a later
installment will see the story expand into the outside world. One
grumble: there is a point where some of these external places are
mentioned, with a string of incomprehensible names like Lûk and Jho-down
and lots more, in the worst kind of infodump. Fortunately this is
brief. The setting is the usual pre-industrial-revolution affair - a
rather idyllic and twee collection of villages filled with more or less
honest, upright citizens. The author has made efforts to avoid the
standard generic fantasy template for his settlements, so each one has
some distinguishing characteristic. Russel, for instance, is an artists’
colony, with houses built on stilts. While these distinctions seem a
little artificial, it’s better than every place being the same as all
the others.

The magic system is very nice. There are three
‘axes’ of magic: the axis of darkness and light, that of energy and
matter, and that of order and chaos. I liked the way that it’s necessary
to keep the opposing forces in balance, which leads to some very
elegant methods of keeping the heroine and the villain apart until the
right moment. The Lightgifters (mages who use the magic of light to heal
and uplift the spirits) call upon sprites to power their spells, which
are charged each morning by a communal song. There are also Darkcasters,
who control a dark equivalent to sprites, known as motes, and spread
gloom and despair. This all works rather nicely.

The characters
fall neatly onto the good or bad side of the equation, and although
sometimes it’s not immediately clear which side a character is on,
ultimately it’s a black or white distinction, there really aren’t too
many shades of grey here. What’s even more depressing is that so many of
the characters are quite passive. Tabitha and Ashley, the two youngest,
are essentially pushed around by circumstance and the machinations of
other characters, and when it appears as if they might drift into the
wrong place or make a mistake, someone more competent comes along to
rescue them. If that fails, then they just happen to realise what they
ought to do - Tabitha by way of her magic ring, and Ashley by virtue of
his oh-so-convenient ability to hear thoughts, although not all
thoughts, you understand, just certain key thoughts. Even Garyll the
Swordmaster with his named sword (Felltang, since you ask) who strides
around fearlessly as the epitome of well-honed manly virtue, imparts
backbone into his weaker subordinates, and accosts the bad guys in stern
brook-no-nonsense tones, is pushed here and there by the schemes and
devices of others. Meanwhile Kirjath the evil minion and his boss the
Big Bad are running rings round everyone, and the Riddler - well, OK,
the Riddler is actually interesting. He has a certain complexity, for a
start, and isn’t a straightforwardly good or bad character, although he
does tend to turn up at crucial moments to rescue poor Tabitha from yet
another tricky situation.

The romance - no, on second thoughts,
don’t get me started on the romance. Putting Garyll of the Manly Virtues
together with Tabitha the Meek and throwing in a few burning glances
and shivering touches does not a romance make. I’d rather an author skip
that part of the story altogether than make such a ham-fisted effort,
especially since a large part of it is just about motivation. Tabitha’s
in danger, so Garyll must ride heroically to her rescue or Sacrifice All
for her sake. But there is one interesting aspect in the apparent
equating of sex with the dark side. The good guys go for romantic
dinners and in moments of excitement hold hands or exchange chaste
kisses. Even thinking about sex pushes them over to the dark side
(apparently). Then they make very questionable decisions because they’re
in love. The bad guys, on the other hand, indulge in wildly passionate
sex while casting spells of extraordinary power (which sounds like a lot
more fun, actually). But maybe I’m just overthinking this.

I
liked the writing style, and although there are a lot of point of view
characters, the author uses them to good effect to drive the story
forward. I enjoyed the little 'riddle' at the start of every chapter,
too. But this is a huge book. I’m a fast reader but it took me forever
to get through it. In a sense, this is a strong point, because the story
is detailed enough to sustain it, and there's very little filler. There
are a few places where scenes dragged on a bit too long, and some
questionable motivations, where the plot was pushing characters along,
but most of it felt necessary. Nevertheless, I found myself tiring of it
more than once, especially during the more horrifically graphic torture
scenes or the multitude of depressing
oh-no-the-bad-guys-are-too-powerful moments.

There was one major
irritant to me and that was Tabitha’s complete inability to work out
what she needed to do. I wouldn’t say she was stupid, exactly, just
very, very slow on the uptake. Even when the Riddler led her step by
step, she never seemed to make the necessary jump until it was
blindingly obvious. It was quite painful sometimes. I enjoy a story
where the author drops enough clues for the reader to work things out a
moment or two before the protagonist does, but not when it happens ten
chapters before and I find myself muttering: ‘Come on, it’s so
obvious!’. I wanted to slap her upside the head sometimes.

The
ending was suitably dramatic, and the last few chapters flew by with all
the usual swings and reversals, one or two not terribly surprising
reveals, and a satisfying, if slightly overwrought, conclusion at both
the overarching plot level and the human level. For those who like a
straightforward traditional fantasy, with clearcut heroes and villains, a
battle between good and evil, and a young innocent discovering amazing
powers, this is an excellent example. It's very well written, with a
large cast of characters who are well drawn and memorable, and a clever
and elegant magic system (and bonus points for the very ingenious use of
mathematical principles; any author combining magic with möbius bands
has my vote). I found it just a little too predictable for my taste, and
I look for a bit more complexity in my characters, but that's personal
preference, and the solid ending and neat magic system make it a good
four stars.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

This has quite a bitty opening, as the author tries to squeeze in a lot
of backstory as well as a dramatic first chapter. Inevitably there’s a
lot of jumping about as a result. However, things soon settle down and
it’s into the main plotline. The main character, Paul Tallis, a former
cop with obligatory tricky past and now down on his luck, is recruited
for a secretive undercover job - track down four criminals recently
released from prison and inadvertantly not deported back to their home
countries afterwards. The four cases are tackled one after the other, an
unusual approach for a book like this, and everything gradually becomes
more complicated as Paul realises things are not quite as they seem.

I
rather enjoyed this. Each individual storyette is solved relatively
easily, but there’s enough going on in the background to make this an
absorbing read. The slow build of tension and the gradual revelations of
back-scene machinations make for a solidly pacy story. Paul is an
interesting character, with a past which is intriguing while avoiding
the usual hackneyed stereotypes (he’s not an alcoholic, reformed or
otherwise, he doesn’t have a broken marriage and he’s not a cynical,
world-weary type). He’s intelligent and physically fit without being a
superhero, and his decisions are generally sensible ones, albeit
slightly naive. Perhaps he’s a little too unrealistically good, in the
moral sense. The minor characters are believable, too. I particularly
liked the chainsmoking cop. The writing style is nicely unobtrusive, and
works very well, and it was good that not every tricky situation was
resolved with a shootout.

The story builds to the inevitable
dramatic climax, and the usual whirlpool of double-crossing and trying
to work out just who are the good guys and who are the bad guys in all
this. I have to say that this wasn’t entirely convincing, and the big
reveal at the end was just too easy. There was also a bit too much
political soapboxing over the last few chapters for my taste. Yes, we
get it, these are Very Bad People. But despite a few minor flaws, I
found this an enjoyable read which kept me turning the pages. Four
stars.

Monday, 19 November 2012

I've joined forces with fellow fantasy reviewer Nathan (Skynjay) to collaborate on a joint blog, Nathan's Fantasy Reviews. That way we can cover more ground and include more reviews than we could individually. More reviewers may be added later. In future all my fantasy and sci-fi reviews will be posted both here AND at the new blog. Some of my old reviews will also be reposted there. New blog is here.

Pauline's Fantasy Reviews will continue unchanged, featuring all my Goodreads reviews, including an assortment of murder mysteries, the odd historical romance and my occasional essays as well as my fantasy and sci-fi reads.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

There was a
time when choosing a fantasy book was easy. You went to the library, and looked
for something - anything - you hadn’t read before. You went to your local
bookstore and scanned the one or two shelves of genre books. Once in a while
you went to the big smoke and found a proper-sized bookstore, and came back
loaded. I was lucky enough to live not far from London, so from time to time I
got lost in Foyle’s, wide-eyed by the sight of so many books. Amazon changed all
that, and now the difficulty is trawling through the thousands of offerings
there. Just how do you evaluate a book well enough to decide whether you’ll
enjoy it?

The advent
of self-published books has made this process more difficult. When every book
had been through the hands of a traditional publisher, a reader could assume a
basic degree of competence and, although occasionally such optimism was
misplaced, it wasn’t a bad guide. But self-published works
are variable - some are every bit as professionally presented as anything from
the big six, and some are appalling. Many are just unpolished, the work of
first-time authors that could have done with a little more editing.

I’ve
been burned more than once, buying a book that sounded terrific, but turned out to be trite and unoriginal, or
full of dangling plot threads, or populated by cardboard characters (and this
applies just as much to traditionally published as to self-published).
Sometimes the typos and creative grammar were overwhelming. As I already have a
backlog of many months’ worth of reading, a book has to be
quite unusual to tempt me to buy it. So I’ve devised a fairly rigorous evaluation
system, and it occurred to me that it might be helpful to self-publishing
authors if I document the steps I go through when deciding whether to buy a
book.

The first
thing I see is...

The Title

And it might
well be the last. Yes, if the title doesn’t strike me as interesting, that may be
the end of it right there. I’m quite happy to reject a book purely on
the basis of a dull title.

Fantasy
titles tend to follow a pattern: ‘The Talisman of Doom’,
‘The
Tale of the Raven’s Stone’, ‘The Orphan of the Lost Storm’
and other such nonsense (I just made those up, so I hope they’re
not real books). Titles like these tell me the book is fantasy, but they also
suggest that they’re fairly conventional fare. I like something a little
different, so they don’t hold much appeal for me. What’s
an appealing title? For me, it’s something I don’t immediately
understand, something that makes me stop and think: what does that actually
mean? Some examples: ‘The Silence of Medair’,
‘The
Adamantine Palace’, ‘Ravenmarked’.

Every day I
get a list of free Kindle books from eReaderIQ, which usually gives me four
fantasy titles. Here are four recent offerings:

So how do
they strike me? I’m not big on elves, really (they’ve been done before, just a few million
times). I don’t mind a few in the background, but any book focused largely
on elves is out, for me. And ‘The
Chronicles of Brawrloxoss’??? That’s a fail in the bizarre spelling
category. So two are out purely because of their titles. And ‘Sea
Change’, although the title is quite appealing (what sort of
change?), turns out to be YA (young adult), which is not my preferred type of
reading.

That leaves
just ‘Whill of Agora’. The title’s unusual
enough to pique my interest. Who or what is a Whill anyway? And Agora might be
a place, or it might be something more interesting. Minor points: I like that
the author puts his publisher as Createspace, so he’s not trying
to hide his self-publishing, and the ratings are realistic, not just an array
of 5*. So the next stage is to click the link to Amazon, and have a look at...

The Cover

This isn’t
a bad cover at all. The two characters in the foreground are very fantasy,
without being horribly clichéd,
and I like the light on the water, and that intriguing city with its tower and
odd sculpture. It suggests some interesting world-building, although covers are
nototiously unrepresentative. I don’t judge a book solely by its cover, but
it gives me an indication of how serious the author is. A cheap-looking cover
is a warning sign that the author has cut corners, or not bothered to pay a
professional. I’m no expert, but this one doesn’t look cheap to me, just a little
old-fashoned perhaps, and not as mind-blowing as the best of the traditionally
published covers (but if it’s only to be sold in ebook format, it
doesn’t need to be - it’s physical books that need the
spectacular artwork).

So then I
move on to...

The Blurb

It’s
difficult to write a good blurb, one that gives the flavour of the book and
also intrigues, without revealing too much. This one is very good, I think, and
tells me plenty about the book. Here it is in full:

‘Every so often, an epic adventure
emerges that makes the blood surge, the spine tingle, and the heart smile page
after exhilarating page. Such is Whill of Agora, Michael James Ploof’s action-packed fantasy that visits
strange new lands as it unveils how one exceptional young man named Whill makes
full use of fierce wits, superior skills, and relentless will to help defend
the land of Agora from the monstrous Draggard. With plenty of drama and action
packed battle scenes, Whill of Agora will enthrall anyone on the quest for
great adventure, good times, and an infectiously optimistic outlook on even the
darkest and most dangerous of days. ‘It is the year 5170 in the land Agora,
where humans, dwarves, and elves have existed in peace for centuries. Now,
however, the human King Addakon has invaded and waged war on neighboring
Isladon. The once peaceful Kingdoms of Agora are on the brink of continental
war. The Dark Elf Eadon, Addakon's master, and his army of Dragon-Elf
crossbreeds, the Draggard, threaten to conquer all kingdoms. The final hour has
arrived. ‘Enter young Whill, a nineteen-year-old
ranger with battle savvy and untapped abilities. Having spent years roaming
Agora and training with his mentor Abram, Whill has become a bright
intellectual and a master of combat. What he seeks most, however, is the
identity of his birth parents. Instead, he finds a tumultuous terrain and a
prophecy placing him in the center of the struggle. ‘Along the way, Whill encounters an
equally inspired group of companions that are matched in skill and mission.
These include Rhunis the Dragon Slayer, the young Tarren, the fearless Dwarf
Roakore, the beguiling warrior Elf Avriel, and the powerful Zerafin. As Whill
joins forces, he forges bonds far mightier than their escalating travails. With
high adventure and fierce friendship, Whill of Agora will capture your
imagination and grip your heart during every super-charged escapade that Agora’s bold and grinning brotherhood
embraces.’

It’s
clear that this is a very traditional type of fantasy: keywords like ‘quest’,
‘prophecy’,
‘mentor’,
‘brotherhood’,
‘war’,
‘elves’,
‘dwarves’,
‘dragon
slayer’ and so on. There’s also the unknown ‘identity
of his birth parents’ - so I guess he’s the orphaned
heir to the kingdom. That may have been done once or twice before. The blurb
also tells me that this is a cracking good read, without being too obvious
about it: all that surging blood and tingling spine stuff, and phrases like ‘great
adventure’, ‘grip your heart’, ‘action
packed battle scenes’ and so on. And I like the sound of ‘infectiously
optimistic outlook’, which sounds like the touch of humour
which always lifts a book, especially fantasy which is often pretty grim.

More
generally, there are no typos in the blurb, no extraneous exclamation marks and
only a few capital letters scattered around. Nor does the author assure me that
his book is the best thing I’ll read all year or as good as [insert
famous author here]. This is all positive - nothing here to frighten the
horses. That’s given me a good idea about the book, so next I look to see
what other readers thought in...

The Reviews

Now some
people only really skim reviews - if there are plenty of 5* reviews and not
many negatives, they will take the plunge. But I like to read them more
thoroughly than that. It’s what they actually say that matters,
not the rating or the volume of them. Amazon.co.uk (my local, so to speak) has
only 4 reviews, 2x5*, 1x4* and 1x2*. The most gushing ones may have been
written by the author’s friends and family, or may even be
paid for, but anything negative is likely to be real, so I always look first at
the lowest rated. Here’s the 2* review:

Good intentions isn't enough to make it workIn many ways this is a very sympathetic
book. The main caracters are likeable, the story is not uninteresting per se.
But someting is missing. There is nothing original or new, the characters lack
depth and I never really came to care about them. It seems like a rehash of
Robert Feists Magician/Krondor series, but without the charm, humour and
character og those books.

And here’s one of the 5* reviews:

great
book: At last another author to
stand along side David Gemmell, Joe abercrombie and Patrick Rothfus. More
please.And a good price to boot.

Abercrombie?
Rothfuss? I don’t think so (meaning no disrespect to the author here, he may
really be the next Rothfuss, but statistically it’s improbable). I really distrust reviews
that say the author is another X, they sound too gushing by half. The 2*
review, by contrast, sounds all too plausible.

Over on big
Amazon, there are 26 reviews, 13x5*, 8x4*, 3x3*, 2x2*.

Here’s
one of the 2* reviews:

Fast
and shallow This is yet another
YA fantasy written to an overused formula: boy (Whill) has a mysterious
background and is accompanied in his (initially pointless) travels by a wise
older person, boy has some sort of undefined destiny, boy discovers he has
untrained magical power and discovers he is an uncrowned king. Great evil
stands in his way, but we all know he will overcome. Dwarfs, elves and other
characters abound. Whill is unbelievably good at everything he does and is too
good in the moral sense, and his adolescent love interest is indescribably
beautiful.The story is not badly written but the
characters are shallow, sometimes stupid, and lack any dimensionality beyond
being very good or very bad. Where are the mistakes made for which a price must
be paid? Where is the confusion and uncertainty that any young man feels? Where
are the unpredictable events and detours in the storyline?I was unable to identify with the story
and will not bother with the next in the series.

And by
contrast, here’s one of the 5* reviews:

Move
over Tolkien Fantastic book. I
had low expectations, having never heard of the author and seeing the
discounted price. This has the potential of becoming a classic. I can't wait
until the next in the series is published.

This is very
similar to the previous pair of reviews (except that the comparison this time
is to Tolkien!). A pattern is beginning to emerge. Goodreads (my review source
of choice) has 21 ratings for the book, mostly 5* and 4*, but no reviews yet,
so no information from there. I feel I’m getting a good picture of the story
now and whether it’s likely to appeal to me, but there’s
still the final step...

Look inside/sample

Amazon now
seems to have the Look Inside feature for pretty much everything, and it’s
really eliminated the need to download a sample. It doesn’t
always format quite right, but it’s quick and easy to read the first few
chapters. The first thing I find inside ‘Whill of Agora’ is a map -
yay! And it’s properly drawn, so bonus points for that. And the chapters
have proper titles: ‘The Road to the Mountains’,
‘Unlikely
Companions’, ‘The Drums of War’ for example.
That’s a small point, but it makes it much easier to keep turning
the pages when each chapter has some sort of intriguing title.

So to the
writing. This book is written in fairly formal language, literate and
descriptive without being overwrought. I didn’t spot any typos or grammatical errors.
There’s action interspersed with quieter passages. The setting is
the usual pseudo-medieval affair, with knights and inns and tournaments, the
pacing seems good and the characters are likeable enough. At this point, I have
enough information to make a decision, but there’s just one more factor I take into
account - the price. For an author I’ve heard of, or read before, I’m
happy to pay mass market paperback prices, but for an unknown - no more than
half that. It’s just too much of a risk. This book is free today, however, so
that isn’t a consideration. So finally...

Did I buy it?

No. I like
my fantasy to surprise me, and this one is cut from a very familiar template. I
know there’s a huge market for this kind of story, and there are some
very like it in the Amazon bestseller lists, but it’s just a
little too predictable for my taste. There's nothing wrong with the author's
presentation, in fact it's rather well done, but there's a fundamental mismatch
between this book and my personal interests.

I should
point out, perhaps, that there’s no significant reason for choosing
this particular book to analyse in this way, except that it happened to crop up
on the email, and I went through all these steps to make my decision. It takes
a lot less time to do than to write about, of course. But the moral is clear:
for authors trying to attract sales, every part of a book's presentation -
title, cover image, blurb, reviews and sample - is important to draw potential
readers. Even if an author does everything right (as in this case), the book
simply may not appeal to many readers, who may be looking for more (or less)
action, more (or less) romance, more (or less) magic and so on. It's only a
failure if the reader turns away for the wrong reason - because the cover image
is poor, or because of typos or self-aggrandisement in the blurb. Once the book
is bought, it’s all down to the quality of the storytelling and the author’s
skill, but the very first task is to sell the book, and that’s
where the initial presentation is crucial.